


Beyond the Sea

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Braavos, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Domestic, Exile, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-04 22:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14029908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Stannis adjusts to life in exile in Braavos with Davos and Renly at his side.





	Beyond the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jougetsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/gifts).



> Your prompt about exploring the Free Cities started the bunnies hopping! Hope you enjoy it. :)

The black cells truly lived up to their name. All Stannis could think of was the darkness. He had been robbed of all senses, save smell, and he wished he no longer had even that. His only hope when the cell was opened for his meals was that his desperate question might one day be answered.

"Are they safe?"

His captor never answered before shoving him a bowl of gruel, which he always ate greedily, remembering his starvation. He hoped wherever Davos and Renly were, they were being fed. He hoped they weren't in the cell next to his. They had all been taken into custody when Storm's End had fallen, but Stannis had to hope that the black cells would have been reserved only for the likes of him. He could only hope they had not realized Davos was a smuggler. 

He did not know how long he had been there. Years? He had lost track of the number of times the door had been opened. 

This time, however, was too early. He had eaten hours ago, he supposed, for he did not yet feel the gnawing ache of hunger that usually preceded the door opening.

"Get up," said a voice. 

The man who brought his meals rarely said anything. Stannis rose shakily, something he hadn't done during his entire captivity, after discovering early on that the ceiling was substantially lower than his full height. 

"Come with me." 

Stannis took a few shaky steps out of the cell, straightening when he was in the corridor. Now his ears registered distant screams.

"Renly and Davos," he said, his voice sounding strained and odd to his ears. "Are they safe?"

"Move." 

Stannis obeyed the voice as it guided him up and out of the dungeons. The sun was far too bright and the sky too blue. The only place they must be taking him was to his death. Would they behead or burn him?

They were bringing him to the throne room, he realized, as he shuffled toward the Red Keep. He was to be judged by the king.

The throne room seemed impossibly large, but it was Rhaegar, not Aerys on the Iron Throne. He did not have time to decide what that meant.

"Stannis!" 

He turned to the sound of his name. He had not been called anything but "you" in ages. It was Renly, running toward him before being caught up by Davos. 

"Stannis!" he cried again, sounding on the verge of tears and Davos' grip on him tightened. 

The smuggler's face looked stricken, too, and Stannis remembered the longing that had manifested in himself in the last days of the siege, a burning desire that had ended in kissing Davos in a desperate daze before shoving him and Renly into a locked chamber as Storm's End fell. He had been ready to die that day and thus had been unafraid of confessing his feelings. The way Davos was looking at him now cemented them. 

At least Davos and Renly did not seem to have been held in the black cells, he noted, dimly, for they were not as filthy as he felt. 

He couldn't speak or keep his eyes off them as Rhaegar pronounced his decision. They were kin, he said, and while Stannis' crimes could not be forgiven, he had acted only out of fraternal duty. 

He did not truly register what he had said until Davos and Renly were running toward him, relief on their faces, heedless of Stannis' filth as they clung to him. 

Exile. 

Numbly, he put his arms around them.

Exile.

**

Stannis woke, panicked, not sure where he was. Was he still in the black cells? Was he going to be burned?

"Stannis, shhh. Stannis, it was a dream. Naught but a dream."

The world filtered back into focus and he realized he'd been batting away Davos' hands. It was early, and Davos' face was haloed with the gray predawn light from their bedroom window. Gradually, Stannis began to register shapes in their small room—their clothes on their pegs, the washstand, the chest against the wall. He took a steadying breath. He knew where he was from the tops of the houses across the way, and looming beyond, the Titan of Braavos in the distance.

He slumped back against his pillow and Davos lay next to him, resting his head on Stannis' shoulder. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Stannis pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes as if that would make the memories desert him. "No. It was the same as always."

Davos stroked his hair. "Go back to sleep. We still have time before we must rise."

Stannis closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come. It rarely did after these nightmares, and Davos lay awake, too, until the Titan's roar obliged them to get out of bed. 

He moved in an unsettled fog through the motions of washing, shaving, and dressing. The man in the looking glass, with his hair neatly combed, dressed in the deep blue robes of a court officer, was a far cry from the glimpse of himself he'd gotten after his release from the black cells. No wonder Renly had been half-frightened of him at first. 

It had hurt at first, he could not deny, that when sick on the crossing Renly had gone to Davos for comfort first, but it made sense—after all, while Stannis had been in the black cells, Renly and Davos had been held in a tower at the Red Keep, in some level of comfort. He would always be grateful that Davos had cared for his brother when he could have escaped to return to smuggling. 

"Good morning, Stannis," Davos said, as he stepped off the stairs into the kitchen.

"Morning, Stannis." Renly was sitting at the table, eating his porridge. 

"Good morning." 

"You have to go to work again today, Stannis?" Renly asked, sounding crestfallen, as though he'd thought going to work would be a short-lived whim Stannis would soon abandon.

"I must." He smiled his thanks as Davos set the plate of fried fish before him. "Where do you think the food on this table or the roof over your head comes from? My wages." 

"Davos doesn't go to work."

"I surely will when you are old enough to go to school." Davos set his own plate on the table and sat. "But until then, someone has to keep you company." 

Stannis had done the best he could before then with making sure Renly could read, write, and do basic sums; Braavosi children were expected to have a foundation at home before starting formal instruction. Stannis had seen the boys with their bookstraps running across the bridges and riding the barges. If Renly could join them one day, it would be a sign that they were truly settled. 

He did not feel that right now.

Stannis drained his cup of tea to avoid having to think too hard about it. "I have to go or I'll be late." 

"Have a good day, Stannis." Davos kissed him and handed him his lunch. 

"Be good," he said to Renly, patting him on the head. 

Leaving them in the warm, cozy kitchen, Stannis reluctantly turned down the long hall leading to the front door and let himself out into the foggy morning.

It was early yet and few were about in the chill. Stannis walked quickly, boots slapping cobbles, in the hopes of getting a seat on the barge. He felt in his purse for a coin. This, too, seemed pointless after a time. He tried to imagine every day of his life playing out like this—kissing Davos good-bye, handing over a coin for the privilege of being crammed onto a boat with fifty other people, all on their way to work for their living. The men Stannis worked with called this life superior to that in Westeros, but in the little time he'd had to learn it, Stannis was of the opposite opinion. 

He reached the pier just as the barge did, which earned him a seat, although he was soon crowded with people standing around him. At least it wasn't a long way to the courts, though he did not think it would be better to walk. 

He disembarked at the dock near the Palace of Truth, and joined the swarms of similarly dressed men making their way up the steps of the white stone court building, dodging vendors who shoved their wares at him.

He felt somewhat calmer once within the cool darkness of the court. It was quiet, all the noise of the outside world being dulled by the thick walls. At least he knew what was expected of him here. A former client of Davos' had gotten the position for him, and he was somewhat chagrined at how apt Davos' assessment of his fit for the job had been.

He had been reluctant to do it, but their first weeks in Braavos, sharing a bed in a small room at an inn near Ragman's Harbor had convinced him. He had not been born for this, but he would do all in his power to support Davos and Renly.

He set his satchel by his desk and sat down. He was the only clerk in the room to have already settled himself at his desk, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as his fellows filtered in, chatting amongst themselves. Stannis ignored them. He had heard the whispers about himself, the exiled Westerosi lord, the one whose brother had thought he could be king. 

At least he was capable of doing the work. He reached for the case file that had so vexed him the day before. A man was being charged with embezzlement, but as near as Stannis could tell, he had only acted on his employer's demands. Stannis was searching for past precedent so he could write his recommendation that the council of magistrates prosecute, but something niggled at the back of his mind. He stood, shoving his papers into a rough stack. He would have to go to the library.

**

After the breakfast dishes had been washed and put away, Davos and Renly set off for the market. This was a daily occurrence, and Davos was becoming quite good at haggling with the vendors. He had long experience with foreign markets, but the nuances of the Braavosi markets had been lost on him until he'd begun visiting them every day.

By now, he knew the vendors and was known to them, which came in handy when getting what he wanted for the price he preferred to pay. Sellers knew he would be back the next day and thus were wiling to relax. 

It also didn't hurt that he was accompanied daily by a cute, talkative child, who loved attention from strangers. 

"What shall we have for supper tonight?" he asked, coaxing Renly along from where he'd stopped on the bridge to watch the barges pass beneath. 

Renly thought for a moment as he slipped his hand into Davos'. He wasn't always eager to do so, but Davos was determined that he would not lose Stannis' brother during one of their jaunts into the city. 

"Sausage," Renly answered. "Sausage and potatoes?"

Davos smiled. He couldn't blame him for longing for foods from home. "Stannis does like sausage and potatoes." 

He didn't relish the prices for sausage and potatoes in Braavos which had little space to devote to farming, but it would be better than making the poor child eat fish day in and day out. His diet in Braavos reminded him strongly of his diet from his years at sea. 

"And bread," Renly said. "Can we get bread?"

"Of course." 

Davos enjoyed the market. Even when the weather was chilly, he liked being out among the people, hearing tongues he didn't understand. He was getting better at making himself understood in the tongue of the Free Cities, with which he'd had a passing familiarity from his smuggling years, and he always noticed Renly listening eagerly. He was surely picking up more than Davos was.

"I don't think Stannis is happy," Renly remarked, as they were on their way home. He was carrying the bread, which here came in long twisted loaves. 

Davos frowned and shifted the basket on his arm. "I think he is homesick, aye." He wasn't sure how much Renly would understand about what Stannis had gone through, what he had lost. Renly had lost his home, too, as well as his other brother, but children were far more resilient. 

"He'll probably be happy if we make his favorite supper."

This made Davos smile. Stannis' melancholy at his exile would not be relieved by blood sausage and fried potatoes, nor his favorite black bread, but surely he would appreciate the thought.

As they turned down their street, he caught Renly looking at the houses.

"You know which one is ours, don't you?"

Renly nodded. "Eighth on the left, third turning from the Long Canal. I was just wondering about the door. Can't we paint it like these people did?" He waved a hand to indicate the gaily painted doors on some of the houses. 

"What color would you paint it?"

"Yellow," Renly said firmly. "Like our banners were."

Davos tousled his hair. "A fine choice of color." 

"We really should paint it," Renly said as Davos unlocked their plain gray door and they went inside. "I think Stannis would like it."

It was a bold proclamation and Davos wasn't sure how accurate an assessment it was, but he wasn't about to correct Renly. 

"We can certainly consider it."

He wondered where he might get some paint.

**

Stannis spent the entire day in the library. He much preferred the quiet environment to that of the clerks' office, and he needed the silence to puzzle through the law texts written in High Valyrian. He considered himself fluent in the language, but the vocabulary here was nothing like what he'd learned in Maester Cressen's study. He had to read each passage two or three times before he was certain he understood the full meaning, but when he did, the feeling was incredibly rewarding. He even found himself losing track of time up there in the room, high in the court building with the late afternoon sun slanting across his books.

"Go home, Baratheon," a voice said.

Stannis' head jerked up from his books, as though he'd been caught in something embarrassing.

Magistrate Farello was standing over him, looking amused.

"I was working on this case," Stannis said. "I had to consult some precedent."

His employer smiled. "And it's admirable. You are probably my best young clerk. But the titan roared an hour ago. Did you not hear it? The workday is over. The work _week_ is over."

Stannis disliked the idea of a work week, five days of work followed by two days of nothing to do, but he didn't object. "I'm not finished."

"Then take it home." Farello smiled. "Although I shouldn't even be suggesting that. You have worked hard enough, Baratheon. Enjoy your break."

Stannis misliked the idea of a break when a task was incomplete, but he rose and began putting books and papers in his satchel. He would finish this at home.

**

One of the benefits to leaving late, Stannis decided, was that the barge home was not so crowded. The other passengers were not his fellow bureaucrats returning home, but people heading out to enjoy the evening entertainments. 

The sun was beginning to set over the Titan and he walked quickly, wanting to get home to Davos and Renly before full dark. He hadn't realized his lateness and hoped they wouldn't worry. 

He turned onto their street and quickened his pace, counting house fronts. 

Then he stopped. 

Where was their house? He had passed eight houses. He turned back to the top of the street, squinting in the gloam, cursing the identical narrow houses, all crowded together, the stupid islands that made up the city, which meant there was nowhere to put people but half on top of each other.

"Stannis!" 

He turned. Renly was hanging out of the front door of a house he didn't recognize, although he soon realized this _was_ their house. The door had been painted yellow.

"Look what Davos and I did today!" 

Stannis adjusted his satchel on his shoulder and took in the sight before him properly.

"You did this today," he said.

Renly nodded eagerly. He dashed down the front steps so he was standing beside Stannis. "Davos said you would like it. And you can tell our house from the others now."

The corners of Stannis' mouth twitched. "You certainly can."

The yellow of the door stood out, even in the increasing dark, against the unadorned gray stone of the house. 

Davos appeared in the doorway, holding a spoon. "We thought you might like that," he said. There was a hint of apology in his brown eyes, and Stannis could tell he'd been unsure of Stannis' reaction. Stannis swallowed hard. 

"A fine thing," he said, brushing Renly's hair back. "A reminder of home."

"That's what I thought. I wanted to put a crowned stag on it, but Davos said we'd best have a signpainter do it."

Stannis could not help but smile at this. His fear over these past few months had been that Renly would forget where they'd come from, would forget their heritage. 

"That seems to be the best course of action," he said, sliding an arm around Renly's shoulders and leading him into the house.

"We got sausage for your supper," Renly went on. "And Davos is frying potatoes and there's bread."

Stannis' stomach growled. "A good thing, then, for I am hungry."

He made sure the front door was locked firmly before proceeding with Davos and Renly to the kitchen. It still felt odd to sit around the table, just the three of them, to take their meals, but he was beginning to decide he rather liked it.

His gaze settled on Davos, working at the stove. His staring was soon noticed and he was rewarded with a smile.

"Did you have a good day?" Davos set a heaping plate in front of him.

Stannis rarely knew what to say about his work at home. "It was all right," he said. He considered mentioning what Farello had said about Stannis being his best young clerk, but thought better of it. "I brought a bit home."

Davos seemed to dismiss this immediately. "You have two days with no work. I thought we might go out tomorrow if the weather's nice." He looked uncertainly at Stannis. 

"We certainly can," he said, lifting one of Davos' perfectly crisp, round potato slices to his mouth. He felt guilty that Davos had taken on the cooking in addition to looking after Renly, but had to admit that he was a very good cook. 

"Good," Renly said, "I want to go to the docks. I want to go up in the Titan."

Davos smiled. "I'm not sure we'll be able to manage that, but we can certainly go close to it."

**

"I wish you didn't have to do this."

"Do what?" Davos pulled on his nightshift.

"All that you do." Stannis hung up his court robes. "I was thinking we might hire a cook."

"A waste of money." Davos pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. "I like being able to help out while you're at work."

Stannis heaved a sigh and lingered before the mirror, rearranging his hair. "Would you tell me if you didn't like it? Doubtful."

Davos got out of bed and stepped over the smooth floorboards to slip his arms around Stannis. "You're right, but we all make sacrifices for the ones we love. You don't like working for another man's coin, do you?"

He sighed, relaxing into Davos' embrace. "No. But I know I must do it to support you and Renly." He turned in Davos' arms, reached up to touch his cheek. "Thank you, Davos, for making me see things straight. I know not where we would be without you."

Davos did not know either; he well enough knew what Stannis had been subject to before it had been decided that exile was a more worthwhile punishment than taking his life. He squeezed more tightly. 

Stannis kissed his forehead. "Don't dwell on the past. I would do well to do the same. We will go on as we have been, all of us together."

"Aye," Davos agreed, and he allowed Stannis to guide him back to the bed.

**

The next morning was sunny, odd for Braavos, and Davos decided to take that as a good sign as they set off after breakfast. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Stannis' mood seemed lighter, too. There was even a hint of a smile on his face as he locked the freshly-painted door.

"I suppose we aren't alone in doing this," he said, nodding to a pair of houses across the way that had painted their own doors red and blue respectively. 

"Of course not," Davos agreed. 

The streets were crowded with pedestrians enjoying the nice weather and the break from work, and Davos noticed Stannis' firm grip on Renly's hand.

"Can we take the barge?" Renly asked.

"It is too crowded," Stannis declared. "Besides, on a fine day like this, it would be a waste not to walk."

The closer they got to the docks, the more relaxed Davos felt. He wasn't quite prepared to admit it to Stannis, but he liked living so close to the sea, and even the brackish water of the canals was a close substitute. 

"Magistrate Farello should be paying you extra if he intends for you to work on a rest day," he remarked.

"Oh." Stannis looked sheepish. "I said I would. I did not like to leave a task unfinished."

"He is paying you to leave the task unfinished."

Stannis smiled grimly. "I will have to keep that in mind."

"People live differently here." Davos took Renly's other hand. "I don't think anyone would look twice at us, for example."

Stannis looked surprised. He obviously knew what Davos meant. "You don't think so?" 

"Stannis, I have spent enough time in the East to know for sure that there is nothing unusual about the way we live."

Something passed over Stannis' face which seemed somewhere between relief and agony, but he said nothing in return. Renly did not seem to notice, thrilled as he was by the sight of the Titan rising before them as they neared it.

"How does it roar?" he asked. "Is it alive?"

"Of course not," Stannis said. "Men make it roar." 

"Do you think I might go inside it one day?" 

For a moment, Davos thought Stannis was going to answer in the immediate negative, but instead he said, "That will depend on what kind of work you decide to pursue when you are grown, I suppose. But it may well not be as interesting to you then as it seems to you now."

Renly made a skeptical noise and kept his eyes fixed on the great bronze statue. 

"I suppose I was only a few years older than you are now when I first saw the Titan," Davos told him. "I was just as captivated by it." 

"If I don't work up in the Titan, I will be a bravo," Renly said thoughtfully. "Why aren't you a bravo, Stannis?"

Davos had to suppress a laugh at the image of his grim lover dressed in bright colors, going about challenging the unaware. He swung Renly's hand. "Do you really think it would suit him?"

"I suppose not," Renly said. 

"I am through with fighting," Stannis declared. "Steel has only ever gotten a man into trouble."

Renly looked down, his hair falling forward to hide his face, and Stannis looked away. Davos, now adept in reading the brothers' moods, could tell that they were thinking back to the circumstances that had brought them here in the first place. 

"I think I would like to stop for sweet ice," he declared. "Sweet ice was something I loved when I was in Braavos before. I hope it's as good as I remember it."

"Sweet ice?" Renly asked.

"Aye. They take ice from the mountains or when the canals freeze and mix it with fruit. It's a treat."

"For after lunch," Stannis said.

Davos smiled. 

**

It had been a good day, Stannis reflected, though they had done little of note. They'd eaten from food stalls, walked the docks to see the ships, and Davos had even met a sailor he'd known many years ago, to whom he'd introduced Stannis and Renly. Stannis had even managed to stand there calmly and greet the man even while he knew full well that he must know that they were lovers.

 _I am glad_ , he thought, as they strolled leisurely homeward, each holding one of Renly's hands. _I do not care who knows I am his._

"Can we go through the park?" Renly asked suddenly. He was pointing to a cluster of trees across the way, which fronted some large houses. 

Stannis frowned. There were no trees in Braavos, save those behind the walls of the wealthy, which meant Renly would not otherwise see one. With all the hours he and Robert had spent in the godswood climbing trees, it was hard for Stannis to imagine a treeless childhood. He wouldn't let Renly climb a tree that might belong to a great and powerful man, but he would at least let him see them. 

"There is no gate," he said thoughtfully. He glanced at Davos.

"I see no reason we can't go in if there's no gate," Davos said matter-of-factly.

As soon as they were under the shade of the trees, the city around them seemed cut off. They saw no one and the sounds of the hawkers and bargemen faded away. Renly let go of their hands and ran forward, whooping for joy.

Without him between them, Stannis reached out and took Davos' hand firmly. Perhaps some things about living abroad were not so bad. 

**

Having one day out with his family went a long way to improving Stannis' outlook, though he still thought two rest days per week was a bit much. He opted not to accompany Renly and Davos to the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea, and instead settled himself in the second-story room overlooking the street. 

The house was narrow, like most of the houses in Braavos that were affordable for people like him—wage workers, but hardly wealthy. The kitchen was on the first floor, behind the front parlor, and their bedrooms were on the third. This left this little room, which Davos had once hinted could be someone else's bedroom one day. For now, though, Stannis was using it as a study.

He watched from the window as Davos and Renly headed off hand-in-hand in the direction of the Isle of the Gods. That was at least one promise kept to his lady mother, as she would have wanted Renly to know the Seven, something Stannis himself could not provide.

He soon lost himself in the law books, scribbling relevant notes as he read. The case against the imprisoned man was not a strong one and the more Stannis studied the statutes, the more convinced he was that the man could be let go. He took out another sheet of paper and began making notes to that effect. 

When he was finished, the case that the man should be let go contained more references than that he should be prosecuted.

It was with some trepidation that he carried his bulging satchel back to work the next day. He didn't know how Magistrate Farello would handle dissent, but he could not allow an innocent man to be prosecuted unjustly. 

He organized his papers neatly at his desk before proceeding to Farello's office. It was a few flights of stairs above where the clerks kept their desks and it overlooked the canal. Farello was watching the barges passing below when Stannis cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Ah, Baratheon." The magistrate rose. "Did you enjoy your days of rest? You know, I saw you in the park with your family. I didn't know you had a child."

Stannis was taken aback by this turn in the conversation. He shifted his prepared packet awkwardly in his arms. "He's my brother, actually."

"And the man with you, your… companion?"

Stannis' face burned. "Yes," he forced himself to say. "He came with us from home. From across the Narrow Sea." 

Farello nodded. "I would like to meet him. I make it a point to make my employees' families. Does—what is his name?"

Stannis moistened his lips. "Davos."

"Does Davos like the theater?" 

"We have never been." He had no idea if Davos had ever been before they met, but they certainly hadn't gone together.

"Oh, you must go to a playhouse in Braavos. Come to the Blue Lantern at the end of the week. You can meet my wife, and I can meet Davos."

"My lord," Stannis said suddenly. He knew of no better address for the man, though he knew Farello would object before he even opened his mouth.

"If anyone should use that term, it should be me to you." 

Stannis tried to ignore the way his face was growing warm again. "Yes, well. Magistrate. I actually came for this." He held out his references. "I do not believe this man ought to be prosecuted." 

"Ah." Farello took the papers from him and leafed through them. Stannis stood stiffly, with his hands behind his back. "This is very thorough work. No one else has raised these issues."

Stannis relaxed, though he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. 

"I'm going to raise this with the council. Good work, Baratheon."

Stannis nodded curtly. He returned to his desk with an odd levity that he had done something good and been recognized for it. The council of magistrates released the man to his family that evening, as Stannis watched from the steps of the court building, thinking that it was not as though he didn't know what it felt like to take your loved ones in your arms after a long imprisonment. 

On his way down the steps, he bought a box of clams from a girl.

**

"How was your day?" Davos asked his daily question as they sat down to his nearest approximation of sister's stew, to which he'd added Stannis' clams. 

"Good." Stannis' spoon scraped his trencher, a good sign, as he was soon hauling himself out of his chair for more. 

"What did you do?" asked Renly. 

"I let an innocent man go free."

Davos smiled. "I knew you were suited to this job, Stannis. You will never be swayed from justice."

Stannis gave him a small half-smile. "Magistrate Farello said it was one of the best reports he'd ever seen." He paused, eyeing Davos thoughtfully. "He also wants to meet you."

"Me?" Davos nearly dropped his spoon. Even Renly looked surprised. "Why would he want to meet me?"

"Why doesn't he want to meet me?" Renly asked, perturbed.

"He has asked us to the theater." Stannis paused. "Have you ever been to the theater?"

"A few times." Davos thought of the raucous dockside playhouses, where he would take in a show jammed into the pit, before supplementing the evening's pleasures at a nearby whorehouse. This was surely not what Magistrate Farello had in mind, however. 

"He has asked us to the Blue Lantern."

"Ah. I have never been there, but Salladhor Saan is fond of it." 

Stannis frowned briefly; clearly he still was not used to liking anything Salladhor Saan liked. "Well, we must go, for we have been asked."

It sounded to Stannis like a great inconvenience, but Davos thought he might enjoy the evening out. 

Davos spent the next few days making arrangements for their evening out, with the dawning realization that they had seldom set foot outside after dark since their arrival in Braavos. Part of that had been Renly, of course, who was now happy for a neighbor girl to come stay with him, something he would not have been receptive to months ago, when he had cried when Stannis left for work every morning. The other part had been Stannis, who had clung to his routine, wanting nothing more after work but supper, books, and his family . Davos welcomed the fact that there was little grumbling about the planned outing.

"Magistrate Farello says the production is a famous one and the players are much renowned," Stannis said. They were getting ready, Renly having been fed his supper. 

"Then we are lucky." Davos paused before the mirror to tie his hair back, in the hopes of looking less shabby. Even though Stannis had knighted him before Robert's defeat at the Trident, he still didn't feel like anything but a roughened smuggler. He had not even known where his lands were to be before they had been sent into exile. 

"You look perfectly presentable," Stannis told him, ducking in to kiss his cheek. "As befits a court clerk's lover."

Davos didn't imagine many of Stannis' young colleagues had older smugglers for lovers. "Thank you, Stannis. I appreciate it." He kissed him.

The evening was not too cold to make venturing out unpleasant, but Davos was glad for his heavy cloak. The barge was full of others like them, out for the evening. Davos smiled to see young bravos trying to catch the attentions of a young woman. He slipped his arm through Stannis'; he did not even flinch.

The way to the theater could not be mistaken. The clientele were better dressed than those Davos had stood shoulder to shoulder in the pit with, once on a time, but he felt as though he belonged among them now, in the clothes paid for by Stannis' clerk's wages. 

Farello had given Stannis directions to his box and they climbed the stairs as people streamed around them, shouting to others they knew. 

"Baratheon!" Magistrate Farello surged forward on one of the landings. "This way. You must be Davos. This is my wife, Neinys."

Stannis and Davos bowed. 

"Stannis Baratheon," Farello said proudly. "I am pleased to have found him. He might be a magistrate some day."

Stannis' face was tinged red. 

"And Davos…"

"Seaworth," he supplied, deciding to use his new name. "A sailor for many years before I met Stannis."

"I am pleased to meet you in person." Neinys inclined her head. "We did enjoy watching you with your little one. Our house looks out over the park, but all our children are grown. My husband pointed you out to me and told me your story."

Stannis' jaw tightened, but she said nothing about exile.

"We hope you are enjoying our city."

"We are," Davos assured her.

At that moment, the lamps scattered about the theater dimmed and the orchestra began to play.

"We'll speak more at intermission," Farello said, leading his wife into the box. Stannis and Davos followed.

The magistrate's box was on the second level, though there was no pit at the Blue Lantern. Davos settled back in the plush seat. The orchestra played until everyone had settled in their seats and Davos was offered wine, fruit, and cheese. Stannis was frowning at his glass. 

"It's not strong," Davos told him. 

Stannis sipped thoughtfully as the curtain rose. 

Davos had to concentrate to follow the language. It was a historical play and the dialect was outdated, though Stannis seemed to be keeping up. He was spending more time marveling over the large lamps that illuminated the stage, the smoke that exploded during the battle scenes. He leaned nearer to Stannis who gave him a look before squeezing his hand.

"You seem to be enjoying it," he whispered to Stannis.

"It's all right," Stannis said. He turned his attention back to the play.

Davos decided not to disturb him further.


End file.
